


Morning Not Yet Broke

by akamine_chan



Series: Morning Not Yet Broke [1]
Category: due South
Genre: Community: ds_snippets, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-02-01
Updated: 2008-02-01
Packaged: 2017-10-05 08:48:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/39872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akamine_chan/pseuds/akamine_chan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fraser leaves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Morning Not Yet Broke

**Author's Note:**

  * For [spuffyduds](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spuffyduds/gifts).



> Written for the Livejournal Community ds_snippets
> 
> Notes: Beta'd by the improbably wonderful Simplystars. This one is for Spuffyduds, who shares my twisted love of angst. And is very nice to me. This was originally written for Challenge 47, but I was waiting for inspiration, 'cause it didn't seem finished. Still doesn't feel done, but I'm going to post it for now...
> 
> Prompt: _i flagged a taxi long before you woke  
> the sun had not yet risen  
> morning not yet broke_  
>      **-Jann Arden, "It Looks Like Rain" **

It is early when Fraser gets up and he shivers in the cool darkness. Quietly, he gathers the clothes that had been hastily tossed aside in their mad rush for the feel of skin on skin. He sweeps his foot under the edge of the bed and after a brief moment, gives up his undershirt as lost. It can be replaced.

He retreats to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him with a small click. Fraser takes a deep breath and flips the switch, blinking repeatedly as the ancient fluorescent light flickers and hums loudly, gradually brightening as it warms up. He dresses efficiently, avoiding his reflection in the cracked and dirty mirror.

With his clothes on, Fraser is more in control of himself, detached and distanced from his emotions. His back aches a little where the bullet is still lodged, but he ignores that and straightens his spine, finding comfort in the familiarity of the stance that is second nature to him.

He takes a moment to try to center himself, to push away the dull, squeezing ache in his chest. It doesn't work. The pain remains and he'll learn to endure it, in time. He turns off the bathroom light and goes back into the cheap motel room, grabs his duffel bag and heads for the door.

He doesn't look at the bed—at the lean, still form, asleep under coarse cotton blankets.

He takes the stairs down to the lobby and walks out the door, where his cab is waiting. The sun hasn't risen yet, but there are gray clouds barely visible in the distance, and Fraser can smell rain in the air. Getting into the cab, he asks the driver to take him to the airport. He has a plane to catch.

He doesn't look back.

-fin-


End file.
